If We Shadows Have Offended
by mintsoff
Summary: So he breaths out his first breathe and laughs with the wind. Forming frost crystals that dance down the skies. Rejoicing in the gift of new life. Unknown of the war he had reawakened. An old ancient war. And Jack doesn't know how much of a beautiful prize he truly is.


**Or In Which We Begin Our Tale Once Again.**

The story books opens up

* * *

In her early years...

had she never experienced anything like this before. The caves as open and wide, open yawns that invite you inside. He goes forwards and lets it. Then the white chonts dance around him when he does.

_"Never let go of my hand." _he says. She looks at him back with a smile. Blue tears dance down her face in confusion.

_"I will not."_

_"Promise?"_ he asks (demands).

_"Promise."_

She promises with...fingers crossed and they almost slip out of his hands. Red thorns and laughter fill inside her. So with that and her promise from the outside, they come a bit closer inside the cave. And moans of pleasure and pain fill the air. Soon, replaced with blank empathy in ones inside mind. Love, that once filled the air, questioned.

_"Never let go of my hand." _

_"I will not."_

_"Promise?"_

_"Promise."_

The words mimic inside her head. She questions its little meaning.

(_**They question.**_)

So as she lets fingers go, day by day, they want to hold on and now all she wants to do is hold on. Tighter and tighter but they loosen a bit more each day. So, she grips tight once more. And she holds on tight.

(_**They do not hold on**_** tight)**

_"Promise."_

He demands more and more each night and she promises and promises. Crossed fingers each time but slowly they straighten. Still crossed somehow. She was not ready yet.

(**Ready**)

When the first days of December comes across, the two peaches in mouths come loser and closer 'till they meet. 'Till they lock. Tasting like static and adventure in one end but pure metal in another. It was not the good metal though. So they break apart. And one...leaves.

The other never chases.

(_**He**_** chased**)

_"I will not."_

I will not hold on. In her mind, she finishes the sentence like that. Because if she could, she would have held on with all her might. Just a bit more tighter as he whispered sweet things of being more beautiful than The Great Walls of China's Susan flowers. She was the deepest snowflakes in the lightest of winters. Chuckles of non belief.

(_**Belief not needed.**_)

And she held on for one last time. One last time. One last time 'till she held on the...strongest.

His, his...weakest.

Weakest for a break of the strength he held since the beginning.

"_"Never let go of my hand."_

He begs this time. He _begs. _

___"I will not."_

The pleasure and pain of one last night 'till everything is straightened and left behind. The peaches taste more like themselves this night. For this last night only. And surprisingly, lock and twist slowly.

Not **quick, quick, quick.**

_Slow...slow...slow._

The crystal blues do not drop for this night only. Excepting the sweet things about being being more beautiful than The Great Walls of China's Susan flowers. She was his deepest snowflake in the lightest winters. Soon, they collapse and held their strongest that night. In each others embrace 'till tomorrow storm.

(_**It was not**_** tomorrow.**)

When he woke up, he whispers into his deepest snowflakes in the lightest winters ears.

_"Never let go of my hand."_

A silent breeze answering with light crystals in the skies.

"**I will**."

(_**I will not.**_)

Red undergoes blue after. Chronic anger and booming thunder. The weather man was right about the storm.

"_Don't let go of my hand._"

"**I will**." (_not_)

"_Don't let go of my hand_."

**"I will**" (_not_)

"_Don't let go of my hand_."

"**I will**" (_not_.)

_**"DON'T LET GO OF MY**_** HAND!"**

**(Let go.)**

Silence after. He lets go of her hand when he asks why. When she answered why. Yet, now she does not want to let go. And the whole Don't let go/ I will comes from the opposite mouths. Sounding foreign when slipping from their tongues but soon becomes their own words. Until blue crystals finally dance down red and smiles, not laughs not frowns, smiles. So she connects the peaches this one more time. He pushes away.

Not caring of the promises in those peaches of change to fit his liking much more. Nor what he expected from them. Of others she promised she would be just like.

She was different. He liked different. She was too different. He was scared. He laughed in the face of fear. Not now though.

She was too different

_(She was not)_

She was not human.

_(She was not.)_

She was not a person.

_(She was not)_

She was a creature.

_(She was not)_

She was an 'it'.

_(She was not.)_

She was not his deepest snowflakes in his lightest of winters.

_(She never was.)_

The hands loosen and split this time. Forever perhaps. She had planned to do so but he, who had not, does instead.

And...he...leaves.

Stealing the towns gold and riches with him. Yet, she does not care. For once he took her goodbye and left her hand, he took hers. Her gold and silvers. The scabs on her knees and bruised lips were all he left behind. They watch each other leave and eyes never lock.

(_**Hers**** did**_)

Days, months, years pass by in minds but only seconds. Not decades not millenniums. Yet, as time passes by, why does silence and betrayal feel just like her. But never as deep. Remembrance though. He tries to forget his hardest. Stealing all the riches he could find, fighting the bravest swordsmen, decapitating a king. Cows even fly over the moon in his eyes.

Wonders, hopes, dreams, memories and joy.

And soon he...

Forgets.

She remembers clearly though. The way he felt and looked. A little of everything. The way his hands felt on her as the peaches connected. Not much to them but they made her feel...normal.

She was not normal. Not at that time.

She was not human. She was not a person. She was a creature. An '_it_'.

She was too different in their eyes and hers. Too different.

Too different seemed the red man in front of her too. Inviting her towards the light of gold and silver cases or was it the other way around. Unsure if she should follow him for so, but who was she to judge. She was too different too. Minus being a strange red color. So when he offers her a hand, she held it.

_"Never let go of my hand."_

_"I will not."_

_"Promise?"_

_"Promise."_

Those lines were never uttered as she held it. Visions of the past flash and what she would leave behind. Then what could have been because that what you truly think of when you leave something behind. What could have been. The red man invites her a little closer to a new start. One where she could be normal.

She will never be normal.

**"Are you ready?"**

"_Yes._" she replies quickly.

**"Are you sure?"**

"_Yes...no."_

**"You want something."**

_"No...yes."_

**"To where then?"**

_"...The glowing, white chonts."_

Where she could feel his hands once more. To hear a certain voice call her his deepest snowflakes in the lightest winters. The voice of a distant memory. Where hands were held and never let go when sweet things were also whispered. Crystals that danced down cheeks that were mixed with pleasure and pain. With moans echoing across walls. Where she promised to never let go. Where it all truly began and really ended at.

Where all you can this is...

_'Have you ever laid your head down and thought. _

_Could it ever get better than this?_

_The caves as open wide yawns_

_With its glowing white chonts_

_Innocence it spreads_

_Feeling its alluring fragrance of dawns_

_As it takes it away'_

Everything goes white and music. Then darkness.

**DARKNESS,BLACK,NOTHING,ABSOLUTELY NOTHING**

* * *

The story book prologue closes and the first chapter begins. Darkness slowly cracks now and reflex shimmers of snowflakes. An old voice says...

"Chapter one."

So the storm begins once more...


End file.
